


Is the future really set?

by FallofDarkness



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Brian can see the future, But Not Much, Character Death, Depressed Brian May, Dreams and Nightmares, Freddie Mercury Lives, Gen, Hot Space Era, I'm Bad At Titles, Mild Language, and communication, and summaries, and writing tbh, but honestly that side is pretty vague, but its a bit confusing, but only in a dream - Freeform, but they're actually real, hints of magic, it's more about relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27090964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallofDarkness/pseuds/FallofDarkness
Summary: Sometime during the recording of Hot Space, Brian starts having strange dreams about what appears to be his own and the bands future.At first he believes them just be manifestation of his own fears about Queens future and his own place in it with the new direction they seem to be taking, and the frequent arguments between all of them, but as they start to become darker and more real, another possibility is presented to him.Are these dreams in fact premonitions of things to come, and if they are, maybe he has a chance to change things.
Relationships: Brian May & Roger Taylor, John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor
Comments: 35
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian makes a new friend, sleeps in the studio, and has a strange dream.

All Brian had wanted to do tonight was go out to a bar with Roger, get a few drinks, and maybe, actually manage to shut his brain up long enough to get a couple hours sleep. Instead, he has somehow managed to find himself in the recording studio at 2am, in the dark, with quite a bit more than a few drinks inside him, playing the outlines of a guitar solo that will inevitably be scrapped as soon as the others hear it, if he even bothers playing it to them in the first place.

Ever since they've started recording this album Brian has found himself feeling increasingly like a spare part, like he might as well not bother turning up to the sessions half the time. Of course he still does, Brian has always been too stubborn for his own good, and so even though he knows any suggestions he makes are more than likely to be ignored, and any complaints dismissed out out of hand if they don't lead to another blazing row, he still can't stop himself from making them. Sometimes Brian wishes he was more like Roger, who can fly of the handle at almost nothing if he's in a particular mood, but also lets things go as soon as he's gotten them out of his system. Roger who also isn't a fan of the disco based direction this album is taking, but is also forward thinking and pragmatic enough to acknowledge that the music they've been doing up until now isn't whats probably going to be selling by the time the record is out.

But of course Brian isn't like Roger, and so every time he's denied another guitar solo, every time a suggestion for lyrics or a riff are dismissed on grounds of being 'too much like their old stuff', every time they get into another argument because he's never learnt to compromise or let things go, Brian internalises it, lets it fester. He's never thought about leaving the band before, not even in the early days, when he'd been in and out of hospital due to the hepatitis and ulcer issues, when he'd worried that the rest of the band would be forced to replace him in order just to finish that album and had been getting requests to join other bands.

It's not that he's really going to leave now, he couldn't even if he wanted to. These people, as much as it doesn't always feel like it right now, are family. There isn't a single other band on the planet he wants to part of other than this one, and he can't even imagine having solo career. He can see Freddie with his eternally captivating stage presence having one, Roger has already done one solo album and will probably do more, but Brian without his guitar and his band, what does he really have to offer. And that's the thing that Freddie and especially John don't seem to understand. Brain's insistence on them being a rock band rather than a disco band, on having his guitar parts, on writing song with a focus on those guitar parts isn't just about ego or his inability to accept change, although they probably play a part. It's also that that's its all he knows how to do. 

Brian can recall his attempts at trying to learn classical harp. He'd ended up having to play the chords separately and piece them together because he couldn't figure it out, and then John had gone and completely learnt double bass in a couple of weeks for one of Brian's own songs like it was nothing. Roger can sing well enough to front his own band, Freddie plays piano, and even without that his vocal range and abilities mean he has no trouble fitting into whatever genre he feel like doing at the time. And it's not like the rest of them can't all play guitar as well, Deaky plays rhythm guitar better than he does, if they wanted to just get rid of him, and have John just play the few bits of guitar they actually need...

A loud crash from somewhere nearby startles Brian out of his increasingly bitter thoughts. He's pretty sure he's the only person here right now, the band taking the late night recording had been on their way out as he had come in, so he is a bit spooked for a moment. Then a scratching, followed by a loud cat like screech. 

The fear Brian had being feeling is replaced with concern and he goes to turn on the light so he can actually see what's happening. 

One of his amps has been pulled over onto the ground, and struggling within the mass of cables behind the setup is a small, angry looking, black kitten. As soon as Brian had turned the light on the creature had become even louder and more desperate. Brian doesn't want to spook the poor thing any further, but he also doesn't want his not exactly cheap guitar rig destroyed by a fluffy ball of rage. 

The first thing he does is to turn the the equipment off so neither he or his new acquaintance find themselves electrocuted. Then he sets about removing the cables from the amps and other attached equipment, so that even if the cables need to be replaced, at least nothing else will be brought down with them. He hopes. This proves to be a less than simple task since Brian is still pretty drunk, and his coordination isn't favouring him right now.

By the time everything else has been freed the cat has of course managed to get itself even more tangled up, and is now basically a rolling ball of wires and wrath. Somehow Brian manages to pick the writhing mass off the floor without too much trouble and place it on his lap. Untangling the wires proves easier than expected and it doesn't take too long before there's a pile of wires dangling across him, with a newly freed kitten wriggling around in the guitarists arms. 

Placing the little creature down, as far away from any electrical equipment as possible, Brian expects that it will slink away and and escape to where ever it came from, but no. The cat instead seats itself in the middle of the room and watches him, or at least that's what it seems to be doing. When he moves to reassemble everything and put his guitar away for whenever he actually has the opportunity to play it again the cat actually decides to following him around, eyeing it's new electrical enemies with a disdain in a way that makes Brian properly smile for the first time in weeks.

Taking the opportunity to observe the kitten more closely, Brian can see that much like he had imagined the cat is probably a stray, rather than a studio pet. The creature had a slight limp in its front leg, and the fur looks to be generally rather matted. He also realises that although mostly black, the cat does have a few white patches on the nose and paws.

Brian's new friend seems to notice its being observed, but rather than becoming skittish as is Brian's past with undomesticated cats,this one actually chooses to approach him, rubbing its face gently against his leg until Brian can't resist the pure cuteness anymore and seats himself on the floor, where the cat decides to crawl into his lap.

Brian is reminded of sitting in a similar position on Freddie's floor just a couple of years ago, several of Freddie's cats roaming around, occasionally coming up to him for affection, while he and John tried not to crack up watching an increasingly intense scrabble game, between Freddie and Roger which had inevitably turned into a full on shouting match, complete with accusations of cheating on both sides. Five minutes later they were all sat on the floor, beers in hand, surrounded by five or six cats, Roger and Freddie's argument completely forgotten. 

Brian misses that, the stupid fights, the disagreements that could get blown completely out of proportion, but somehow be dissolved into laughter by a dumb joke, or a well timed snarky comment by Deacy. Now those comments feel a lot sharper, and pierce a lot deeper, and the arguments spill over into each other, the moments between the fights filled with a tense quiet, which only serve to remind Brian that the differences that used to fuel their music now just feel destined to tear them apart. He's seen it happen to so many other bands that he looks up to and respects, and even some of his own friends, but for some reason up until recently had never imagined might happen with Queen.

Maybe sensing Brian's mood, or maybe just because he hasn't being paying it enough attention the kitten starts nuzzling against him, wriggling around in a way that at once again stops Brian from falling to far into the well of his own mind. Tugging on Brian's sleeve with it's teeth, the cat seems to point towards the clock on the studio wall. 

It's now close to 3 am and Brian is struck by the realisation that he can't remember the address of where he's staying right now, and even if he could, walking though Munich in this state, at this time doesn't seem like a good idea. He could call one of the others, but he's pretty sure Roger had company when they'd part ways and Freddie may well do too. John is more likely to be available but the conversation he can imagine occurring in his head if he were to call Deacy is enough to put him off the idea.

That means his only real other option is to sleep here, in the studio. It won't be the first time he's done that, but not since the bands early days when they were recording late at night, in between the more established bands, who the recording company had known they could make money off. 

In the first show of good fortune Brian has had today he discovers that someone has left several blankets, and even a pillow on one of the storage shelves that isn't occupied by recording equipment of some sort. Laying a couple of the blankets on the floor gives a slightly gentler area to lie than straight on the ground, along with the pillow and another blanket on top of him, Brian shuts his eyes and tries to ignore the dark thoughts trying to claw the way back into his mind in the silence.

Somehow, sleep does manage to find him, eventually. 

_Brian sees himself standing on a stage. The Red Special is in his hands and he is playing, but the song is not one he recognises._

_He seems nervous in a way that Brian never recalls feeling on stage, and there's something odd about the way everyone else on the stage and in the audience a slightly out of focus quality. Someone starts singing, but it doesn't sound like Freddie, in fact it kind of sounds like Brian himself._

_That, Brian realises is because it is. The words he is singing are not ones he recalls writing, or even hearing before, although they feel like something he might._

_What feels less right is that, although there is a band on stage behind him, they are not his band. There is no Roger, no Deacy, no Freddie, only a sea of unfamiliar faces that seem to fade out the closer he tries to look, until he's standing in a foggy blackness with one distant light flashing in and out._

_There's a tugging on Brian's leg, and he looks down to see the cat from the studio. It seems to be pulling him and he finds himself drawn towards the light._

_What had appeared to be one light begins to separate into numerous smaller ones, shifting in unison. Another stage appears before him. The lights are coming from the audience. On the stage is a single seated figure. The figure is older looking with hair that looks much like his own, only grey, and is holding an acoustic guitar. He appears to be talking to the audience and although Brian can't quite make out what he's saying, the voice sounds like his own too._

_The man who Brian is starting to think might be an older him stands up and hands the acoustic guitar to a man who has just appeared on the stage. Two other figures appear on the stage soon after, one is a similar looking age to the first, but the other looks a lot younger. The older one passes over a guitar which Brian recognises as the red special, which confirms that the first man is indeed himself._

_The cheeky smile the other man gives old Brian as he hands in instrument over looks exactly like Roger, and there are enough other physical similarities for him to be pretty that's who it is. The younger man he doesn't recognise at all, although the flamboyant style somewhat reminds him of Freddie, even though otherwise the man looks not much like him._

_Brian can't imagine him and Roger playing without Freddie or John, and the thought of it tightens his chest painfully. What bothers him even more is how happy they look. He feels a rush of anger at this version of himself. At his real self for being able to imagine this possibility. Is he giving up? Not willing to fight for the future of the band he loves, for the future of this family they've made._

_The darkness returns._

_Brian feels a light scraping on his chest._

_He awakes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Queen fic, and RPF type thing in general so please be gentle.
> 
> I have the rest of the story planned, put not entirely written yet, since I'm not sure anyone is going to like it.
> 
> Also it's not beta read so as much as i've tried to look through it a few times myself there are probably some mistakes I've missed, so sorry for that.
> 
> And if anyone has any ideas for what Brian could call his new friend feel free to let me know in the comments.  
> :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian is convinces himself that today he is going to turn things around, but a new song from Deaky and a message from Chrissie only serve to make him feel even worse about himself. Another dream doesn't help matters.

Brian awakens to darkness, pain in various parts of his body, and a feeling that his torso is currently being used as a scratching post. The scratching stops as he sits himself up, blanket falling to the ground, replaced by an insistent nudging on his side. 

Brian reaches down and begins to absent mindedly pet his new friends fur, as his brain begins to process the past nights events. He remembers drinking with Roger, and then drinking even more alone once the drummer had disappeared, although who exactly he had left with Brian can't recall. He remembers wandering around Munich with no idea where he was going and somehow ending up back at the studio, freezing and unable to remember his own address. He can recall being let inside by one of the studio techs who he's struck up and acquaintance with over the course of recording here and spending the next hours with his guitar and his thoughts, and and his new little friend, before falling asleep on the studio floor.

He remembers the dream.

The feeling of hurt and anger he'd felt at himself, seeing himself and Roger alone, without Freddie and Deacy, grips him again. He doesn't want that, he's never wanted that, he just wants them to be on the same page, to make the music people want, to feel like he actually has a role in what they're doing. But it must be there somewhere, in his subconscious, the kind of bitterness that would allow himself to imagine that he could be happier playing with out two of the three people he has, over the years, come to see as the brothers he he didn't have. 

No, he tells himself, no, that isn't true. Queen can't fall apart, he won't allow it. If he can just explain his ideas properly, let them know why he feels the way he does, maybe they'll get it, maybe they won't think just being some stuck-in-his-ways stubborn idiot who doesn't know how to shut up, and maybe, just maybe, they can make something out of this album that they can all be proud of.

But first he needs to get himself together. 

Glancing at the clock, which he can just about make out he sees that it's 9:40 am. That means he has around twenty minutes before the others are meant to be getting here, not enough time to get home and shower, or change, but at least enough to tidy the studio and himself up enough to not invite questions. Much like last night, Brian finds himself being shadowed by his kitten pal. There's something about the cats presence that calms him, helps to ease the tension he's been feeling recently. 

With that, and a new found determination about this album that he hasn't felt for weeks, Brian is feeling almost optimistic about today's recording session. 

Then the others arrive.

John is the first to appear. He barely acknowledges Brian as he enters, sparing only a glance before heading over to collect his bass, mind clearly focused on something. That in itself doesn't worry Brian much as John is often the quietest of the group, choosing to speak when he feels he actually has something to contribute, rather than just to fill the silence in the way the Brian himself, and sometimes Freddie as well feel the need to do.

It does however definitely worry him when Freddie and Roger turn up, entering the room at the same time, but avoiding each others personal spaces in a way that signals to Brian that the two more temperamental members of the group have already managed to find something to argue about. The glares they give each other before separating, Freddie heading over to John and Roger to where Brian himself is sat.

The irritation in Roger's eyes disappears slightly as he he looks Brian over with concern, taking in the still dishevelled look despite his best efforts, and the exhaustion that is probably showing in his face.

"Please tell me you got some sleep." He asks quietly, giving Brian a look that strongly implies he knows pretty much how Brian's evening had gone. He possibly does. Roger has always been quicker and more observant than most people give him credit for.

"Brian" He says again, more insistanly when Brian doesn't respond straight away.

"Sorry, I'm still a bit tired I think, but yeah I did sleep a bit."

"Good."

Roger doesn't look entirely convinced, but to Brian's relief does seem willing to drop the subject for now. 

"What's going on with you and Freddie?" Brian finds himself asking, as he glances over to where he and John are stood, and notices that their singer seems to be in worse shape than he is. 

"I honestly don't know, I think he's been talking to Paul again..."

"Hey, if you two are done talking about Roger's concern about what I do in my personal time, and who I do it with, I think we have some songs to be recording" Freddie calls from across the room, voice uncharacteristically cold.

Steeling himself for another session of the same, Brian picks himself up and heads over to where the others are stood, Roger following behind. John has several pieces of paper in his hand and is looking through them calmly. The nervousness that used to clearly signal that John had a song he wanted to introduce to the band is long gone, and despite the disagreements and Brian's feelings about his own role in this album, he has to admit that it's good to see John's growing confidence.

Freddie on the other hand. Close up Brian can even more clearly see how tired and frustrated the usually so fashionable and put together singer is. It hurts Brian to see the badly disguised stress and pain in the other mans eyes and feels a stab of hatred at himself for the part his own stubbornness and insecurity has probably played in it. He wants to say something, but doesn't think Freddie would take it well right now, and so keeps his mouth shut.

Brian is taken out of his thoughts by a sheet of paper being shoved into his face. John is speaking to them and he forces himself to focus on what he's saying

"... have some ideas for the music, but theses are the lyric I have." 

Despite John's growth in confidence, he still doesn't like to sing in front of the others. If he has a tune in mind he'll usually play it for Freddie to sing instead, but occasionally, when he has lyrics he's particularly pleased with but doesn't know how he wants it to sound, he just writes it out for them like he has done here.

Brian wanders away from the others so he can read without feeling John and Freddie's questioning looks on him, as if they're waiting for him to disapprove and start another fight.

The first two words on the page read Back Chat. The words themselves were very Deacy. Sharp, precise, and with that biting undercurrent that had surprised all of them when they had first become aware of just how brutal their quiet friend could be when he wanted to. Brian hears the song clearly in his mind, knows exactly what he can bring with his guitar in order to really bring out the vicious undertones to the lyrics, the refusal to back down.

But even as he's planning that out he finds certain phases playing over and over in his head. Ones that feel familiar, that recall things John has shouted at him in the heat of their growing number of arguments. 

'You're so tall, you don't bother me at all.' Is he the person John is so angry at here. Has he really driven his friend to such levels of frustration with him that he's felt the need to write a song about it. Has the communication between them really broken down so far that this is is the only way he feels he can express it.

Brian takes several deep breaths and tries to calm himself. He's probably over thinking things, his insecurity making him see things that aren't there. Even with his shyness John has always been open about how he feels, about what he thinks. But then again if the lyrics are about him then maybe the reason he's written the song is that he doesn't feel he can talk to Brian about it, that he feels Brian will only talk over him, dismiss him. Would he do that? Brian has never seen himself that way, but perhaps he's just been blind, too taken up in only seeing his own way of doing things to allow for the idea that it may not be the right one.

He looks over to the others to see their reactions. Freddie has gone over to the piano, and seems to be plotting out a tune, looking pleased. Roger on the other had seems annoyed, and when he sees Brian looking at him gives a look that tells Brian he's not the only one whose seen a message to him in there. 

Brian signals to Roger not to say anything, and although he doesn't look happy about it, the drummer nods. Neither of them want to start an argument before they need to right now.

Brian is feeling numb by the time John calls them over to hear the ideas he and Freddie have for the tune. Deacy has his bass and Freddie is holding a mic, smiling proudly at the bassist. The tune they have thought up is clearly following the disco theme of the album, but Brian has to admit to himself that it does have a catchiness to it.

Then Freddie starts singing. Reading the words on the page had been one thing, but hearing them sung out loud hits in way Brian hadn't expected. He tries to keep his reaction neutral, as the words force the way into his head, attaching themselves to the negative thoughts already swimming round in there, although the sympathetic look and shoulder squeeze from Roger suggests that he isn't completely succeeding. 

Freddie and John however seem completely unaware of the battle going on in Brian's head, or maybe his mind supplies bitterly, they just don't care. _Maybe this is how they want you to feel. Maybe this is how you deserve to feel._

"So, what do you think?" John asks the tone of his voice telling Brian that he doesn't actually want an answer, or at least not one that isn't 'it's great, now what do you need me to do'

Of course Brian can't control his own stupid mouth when it comes to opinions on the bands music so what he ends up saying is what he'd been thinking when he'd first read the lyrics,

" I think it would work better with a harder edge," he finds himself saying, "maybe a strong guitar part later on to emphasise the point."

John scoffs at him, eyes burning with rage although his voice says calm and quiet.

"Of course you'd think that Brian. Has it ever entered your head that not everything needs a guitar solo. Not everything needs your input. I can get my message across perfectly well without your help. I like what me and Freddie have come up with, and that's what we're doing. No guitar needed."

No you needed. John doesn't say it out loud, but the disdainful look he gives does it for him. 

There's a growl beside him, which for a second Brian think has come from Roger until he looks down to see his small pal at his feet, looking ready to attack. John gives the creature a look similar to the one he gave Brian before wondering away to check in with the their tech people in the booth.

Freddie no longer looks annoyed, just tired, and slightly guilty. Brian feels that flash of anger to himself again for putting this on Freddie when he's clearly going going through his own stuff right now, trying to figure himself out, and he knows that as much as they all dislike Prenter, none of them can understand what Freddie is dealing with in the way he probably can. 

Freddie sighs, looking at Brian more gently than he has in a while,

"Get home Brian, get some proper sleep."

The words are said with care, but they still cut him, remind him that they don't need him here, that all it might take is one more argument, and they'll cut him out altogether. 

Brian nods, feeling unable to speak without crying, which he doesn't want to do, at least not here. John is right, he's spent too much of this album trying to make things about whats good for him rather than the actual album, and he's not going to do that now. 

The kitten is still following him as he exists the building. Not wanting to be alone right now Brian gathers the creature into his arms and holds it close, the creatures steady heart beat helping to relax his own.

\----

The light on Brian's phone is blinking when he gets in, signalling that he has a message. He doesn't really want to to talk to anyone right now, but it might be important so he puts the kitten down in the kitchen with a dish of water before heading back into the hall to see who's been trying to get ahold of him.

Brian recognises his wife's voice immediately, and his heart clenches with guilt and self-loathing. The last time Chrissie had called him had led to them both yelling some incredibly cruel things at each other followed by Brian going out with Roger and a couple of their new Munich friends, getting incredibly drunk and sleeping with a beautiful German girl who had been performing that night at the pub he and Roger most tended to go to when they went out.

He wishes he could say that was the only time it had happened.

The thing is Brian loves Chrissie, how could he not, she's pretty, kind, a great mother, and she puts up with his many faults to an extent that he knows he doesn't deserve. Yet for some reason they don't seem to connect the way they used to. When he's away Brian misses her terribly, finds himself seeking out affection wherever he can to replace the missing pieces, but when he's not recording or on tour, Brian finds himself weary and drained. He can't summon up the energy to feel the passion she deserves from him, and the further things go on the more the time they do have together is spend in disagreement.

Listening to the new message does nothing to assuage his guilt. 

_'Chrissie here. I'm sorry about before. You were right, it was nothing. I know you care about us, about the kids, and it was unfair of me to say you don't. I was just worried, as were you, before you call me up to tell me how you were wrong and should be the one apologising. I know, and I forgive you, please try to take care of yourself, I know how hard you work yourself. I love you, darling.'_

It's the last the sentence that breaks him, knees failing as he curls into a sobbing mess on the floor. He doesn't deserve that, not after everything he's done to her. He _should_ be the one calling her, telling her how sorry he is, making sure to tell her how loved she is, how much more than him she is. But of course he doesn't have the guts to do that and so as always it falls to Chrissie to bring things around, to reach out, to keep things together, while all he can do in response is lie on the hall carpet and cry his eyes out like a fucking child.

It takes almost an hour for Brian to pull himself together enough to pick himself up, as the emotions he's been holding in for the past few weeks come at him in waves. He tries calling back, but the message on the other end of the line informs him that Chrissie has gone out to her sisters for the evening. 

Brian leaves his own message, almost breaking down again as he tries to relay everything he feels he needs to say into the brief time he has. 

_"Get home Brian, get some proper sleep."_

_Please try to take care of yourself._

Brian knows he doesn't deserve the concern, but he'll try to do so anyway, not wanting to hurt the people he cares about anymore than he already is doing. The guitarist forces himself to eat and take a quick shower, which does make him feel slightly more human than before. 

Now for sleep. Before getting to bed himself Brian pulls together a box and some cushions to create a makeshift bed for his new friend. The cat takes one look at the dismal attempt and instead hops onto Brians own bed, giving Brian a look that leaves no room for negotiation. There's something about the expression that reminds him of Roger and as Brian falls asleep, dark ball of fur pressed against him, he doesn't feel quiet as alone.

_The room is packed full of people but outside of himself, only one other figure stands out from the foggy haze blurring his vision. A woman, small and petite, with red hair close to being as curly as his own. He doesn't recognise the woman, but something about her draws him in, makes him want to be closer to her. The version of himself he's looking at seems to feel the same, gazing at her for a moment before seeming to gather up courage to go over a strike up a conversation._

_Brian tries to move closer, hear what he's saying but as he does the scene fades away replaced by something more familiar. Brian sees himself and Chrissie, stood in their kitchen. The two of them are clearly arguing, and Chrissie is waving around a newspaper with an image that appears to of Brian with another woman, although he can't make the picture out clearly enough to see who it is._

_Brian feels the strong desire to punch himself in the face, for hurting his wife, again, but once again, as soon as he tries to interact with proceedings, he's pulled out of them._

_Now they're in an office, both look tense and serious, a man behind the desk is talking to them, gesturing to various papers lying between them. most of the words are a blur, but one stands out, at the head of one of the papers. Divorce._

_Brian is alone. He can feel it. He's lying in bed and everything is silent. A phone rings. He ignores it. A moment later it rings again. this time he goes to answer. This time it's his own hand reaching for the phone. A female voice he doesn't know_

_"Do you need me to come over?"_

_Brian is about to reply when when he's pulled back into the darkness._

_He's in a car, there's a bridge up ahead. Suddenly Brian can see everything going through his own head. He tries to get his attention, to stop the car, anything._

That's when he's drawn back through the darkness and into reality.

When Roger calls later that evening offering to come over with drinks, Brian agrees immediately. He may not feel worthy of his friends care, but he really needs the distraction, and he really needs to not be alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to show the tensions in the group without villanising anyone, and I hope I managed to do that, but i'm not sure.
> 
> When I started writing this I thought doing the dream stuff would be easy, but it turns out not so much. Trying to keep Brian in the dark while also fitting with the narrative has proved a bit tricky. 
> 
> Anyway hope this is okay, and please leave some comments and kudos, so I know if people are actually enjoying.  
> Again, apologies for any mistakes.


	3. Chapter 3

Brian rolls over and grabs the notepad and pen he's taken to keeping by his bed over the past few nights. Turning to a clean page he jots the date and starts scribbling down everything he can recall from tonight's dreams.

 _Freddie has a solo album._ _Roger maybe fronting his own band. Mysterious woman appeared again, think her name is Anita. Older Roger wedding, still no sign of Freddie or Deacy. Must be some time when not performing, where I complete PHD._

Next to each event he makes a note of the when in his life these events appear to be occurring. From what Brian has gathered so far a vague timeline is forming in his mind, starting with the conclusion of this album, and what scares him the most about this odd, twisted future, is the almost complete lack of Freddie and Deacy in it. Yes, he sees Freddie having a solo career, but that doesn't seem to be a far away event, and after that nothing. John doesn't even have that. The only appearance he has made so far is during a brief moment, where he suggests they take a break when the album when they've done touring the album.

Of course the idea of the band splitting up scares him, the idea of himself and Roger starting it up again without the others still angers him, the possible break up of his marriage hurts like hell, (even as he admits to himself that it is something he's been aware of being a possibility for a long time now), but there's something about the way that Freddie and John just aren't there, almost like they just cease to exist that just doesn't quite fit.

He can maybe imagine John taking himself out of the limelight if the band breaks up, choosing to focus more on his family and less on music. But Freddie, he loves performing, loves being on a stage, he lives for it just a much as Roger and Brian do. It would have to take something drastic for him to stop completely, and none of the possibilities Brian sees flashing before his mind are ones that the guitarist is ready to face right now. 

The other thing that scares him is how seriously he's taking this, how much of his mind seems to have decided that these visions are an undeniable signifier of future events. It doesn't matter how much he tells himself these are just dreams, a manifestation of his fears, insecurities, and in some cases desires. It doesn't matter that he doesn't normally believe in premonitions or psychics. Every time he has one of these dreams he feels it, he knows, there's something going on, a message he has to find, and once he unravels the truth of what's going to happen in this future he can stop it from happening.

The problem is, he doesn't know what he needs to do. If he does nothing then whatever is going to happen will, but if he pushes too hard, or in the wrong direction, he might break them even further, destroying any chance of fixing things later on. And what if it is all nonsense, what if he really is just freaking out over his own messy imagination, he might still end up destroying the band in his desperate attempts to keep them together...

But if he really is receiving premonitions of his future there has to be a reason for them, there has to be something he can do about them, some kind of clue to guide him. There must be something inside the dreams themselves that will help him. There are always certain parts of the visions that are clearer, more focused, snippets of conversation he can actually make out. Maybe there's something in those. 

This would all be so much simpler if he could just talk to to the others, tell them what he's been seeing, but right now he's pretty sure they'd just take it as some sort of ploy to make them do what he wants, or as him saying that they're going to break up Queen by not listening to him. At least Freddie and John would see it that way. Roger would be more sympathetic, but is hardly going to believe that he's having some kind of visions of the future, and he doesn't want the only person still on his side thinking he's losing it. Even if he might be. 

He sort of hopes he is.

* * *

He isn't.

Brian isn't sure how the argument started. One minute they're practicing one of Freddie's contributions to the album, then suddenly they're all shouting over each other, throwing about insults and accusations that have nothing to the music, and everything about how the all feel about each other in the moment. 

"Will everybody shut up!" John yells, and suddenly Brian knows exactly where this conversation is going. His heart clenches as the all quiet down in just the way he remembers, staring at the bassist in shock. 

Just as in the dream John appears to take a breath, calming himself, before continuing in a much calmer voice,

"I've been thinking, we can't continue like this. I can't continue like this."

"What are you talking about?" Roger cuts in, and it takes all of Brian's self restraint not to say the words he knows are going to come out of John's mouth next.

"I need to take a break, I think we all need to take a break. When this album is done." 

"We can't" 

The words fly out of Brian's mouth before he can stop himself, and now he's the one they're all staring at.

"Why not?" John's voice is raised slightly and Brian knows he's on a tightrope here,

"Because..."

_Because I dreamt that you said that and then we all broke up and i don't even know what happens to you and Freddie, and I'm scared we're going to lose this... he can't say that. He has to say that..._

"Because what Brian?" John is yelling again, "I thought you'd be the one jumping on this, you're the one who hates what we doing so much. Why not just go off and do your rock shit for a bit, get it out of your system. Go do something with your satanist friends, or even better make your own album then you don't have to listen to anybody else for a bit."

"What the hell John" Brian thinks he hears Roger say, but now he feels his own temper rising, mixing with the already building panic.

" Because it's not going to be a break John. If we stop now this is it, we're done." Eyes are once again on him, and Brian realises this is it, this is he opportunity, "We're all go to go our own ways and that'll be it."

"Oh, and how do you know that Mr. Psychic, see it in a dream?" John shoots back, biting tone at full force.

"Yes"

John starts laughing, but the sound is hollow, and Brian is beginning to regret his outburst, but now it's out there he feels the need to explain things further. 

Brian knows he's probably not going to be believed when John scoffs at his description of the part of his dream that had lead to this argument/discussion in the first place, but now he's started he finds that he can't stop. As Brian goes on he can feel the disbelief and anger in the room grow, although none of them interrupt his description. 

As the guitarist finishes speaking there is silence. 

"You really do think we can't do anything without you" John says finally, voice devoid of emotion, " you can't stand the idea that we aren't just doing what you think is best so now your subconscious has to invent some weird world where if we don't do things you want, everything falls apart."

It's not like Brian hadn't expected this reaction, it's the reason he hadn't planned on revealing things like this, but that doesn't stop it hurting. He can't gage Freddie or Rogers reactions, which in itself is pretty scary.

The session continues without another mention of dreams, or breaks. There also isn't much conversation about anything else.

* * *

The next day Deacy is gone. There's a note saying he's gone to Bali, and that's it. Roger has tried calling Ronnie, but so far there has been no response.

Brian knows this is his fault. 

The album has never been the problem, Freddie and John wanting to try something new has never been the problem. He's spent so much energy looking for some specific moment, a tipping point that he can push back off the edge to keep the band on track, that he hasn't noticed the common factor threading all of them together.

Him.

He's the problem. 

He's the one starting all the arguments. He's the one who can't let go. He's the one who drove John to suggest the break in the first place, and has now driven him away completely. 

Brian knows what he needs to do now, he knows how to fix things, how to keep things together.

Three days later John comes home. 

He has written another song, and wants to show it to the group. 

When the bassist asks for their opinions Brian says he thinks it's great and asks what John need him to do on it.

The relief in Deacy's eyes when he doesn't argue back almost makes him feel like he actually believes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, and honestly didn't go in the direction I had planned at all, but still mostly works with the rest of the story as I have it planned. 
> 
> Next chapter is Roger POV I think, 
> 
> Comments and kudos are massively appreciated as always,


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another night out Roger takes the opportunity to figure out what's going on with Brian.

If it wasn't already obvious to Roger that something has been seriously bothering Brian recently, the amount of alcohol he has consumed over the course of this evening would have probably clued him in. As would the fact that he has yet to make a single complaint about Roger smoking inside his house. 

This album has been particularly challenging for the group, they've all been struggling in their own separate ways, and Roger had been noticing the signs of the guitarist maybe slipping into one of his darker moods even before the worrying change in behaviour over the past couple of weeks, which was when his concern had really started to grow.

His first sign had been the way Brian had blown up at Deacy's suggestion of the band taking a break, rambling about dreams and premonitions, fear evident enough that Roger knows he had been entirely convinced of what he was saying. The reaction to John being gone the next day, was another clear warning sign. Roger and Freddie had been frustrated and worried enough themselves, but they'd both known their youngest member would return once he had worked things out in his own head. Brian on the other hand had seemed sure this was the last they would see of him, that he had driven John away for good, and that the bands end was now inevitable. 

The bassist had of course returned, Brian renouncing the importance of his dreams, and apologising for fighting his and Freddie's ideas so hard. Roger hasn't heard a word of dissent from the guitarist since, even when that means he ends up having nothing to do in a session. Outside of sessions Roger has seen very little of his friend. Tonight is the first time he has actually agreed to come out, and even then he had gotten the impression was more an attempt to alleviate Roger's concerns rather than because he had really wanted to.

Recalling Brian sitting opposite him, staring sadly at nothing in particular, only to plaster on a fake smile as soon as he'd realised he was being observed, only adds fuel to that worry, and gives him a stab of frustration at the fact that John and Freddie seem so oblivious to how un-Brian like Brian is being at the moment. They're so wrapped up in making the album they want, in being happy that they are no longer being challenged on what they're doing, that neither of them seem to realise how wrong it all is. Queen works because of the disagreements, because all of them have their own ideas and visions, and Brian's stubborn, only-child, brand of perfectionism has always been an integral part of that. 

Now all he does is sit in silence until he's asked for an opinion, or look like a kicked puppy everytime a guitar solo is taken away from him. 

Roger hates it. 

He tries to push the anger away for now, if he wants to figure out whats going on with his friend, getting mad at him, or even for him, will not help, although right now he's not sure what will.

Looking over at Brian now, Roger can't help but smile. Somehow in the time he's been thinking the guitarist has managed to fall asleep, in what looks to Roger to be a ridiculously uncomfortable position, body clearly too long for the tiny seat he's mostly crammed into, legs pointing in the air at awkward angles. 

Seated on top of the mass of limbs and hair that is Brian May, is Pixie, a stray cat who Brian has informed him he'd found in the studio. She's named after the guitarists first childhood pet, who according to Brian she looks a lot like. 

She's also watching him, intently, and Roger begins to get the strange feeling he's being judged, by a cat. He must be more drunk than he'd realised, but whether imagination or not, the drummer can't help but feel like he's passed some sort of test when the creature drops onto the floor and pads around the coffee table, curling herself up by Roger's feet.

"What's going on in that poodle head?" Roger whispers aloud, not quite sure if he talking to himself or Pixie.

The cat responds, pulling at Roger's leg until he gets up, and continuing trying to drag the drummer along until he finally just decides to see where this is going. 

He really must be drunk.

Pixie leads him through the house, until she reaches the closed door that from Roger's memory leads to Brian's bedroom. He feels a bit weird entering his friends bedroom alone, but the drink numbs his discomfort at the idea enough to make the hesitation brief.

As soon as the door is open Pixie rushes inside, and by the time Roger has found and turned on the light switch, she's headed back to him, attempting to drag a notepad across the floor that's almost the same size as her.

Picking the notebook up, Roger recognises the cover as being like the one Brian often uses to jot down his ideas for song lyrics. Maybe the songs Brian has been writing will give him some clue as to what's going on inside the other man's head. After all, Brian does have a tendency to write lyrics that have some element of himself and what he's going through in them.

Opening the book up to the first page however, Roger realises immediately that what is written here is definitely not intended to be put to music and sung in front of a live audience.

What this is, is a diary, or more specifically Roger realises, skimming through the first couple of entries, its a dream diary. 

The drummer is reminded, not for the first time tonight, of Brian's outburst prior to the Bali Incident, as they all seem to be referring to it. Brian has since dismissed those dreams, and Roger has seen no reason doubt him on that, but he may still find some indication of Brian's headspace from the dreams that had, at least for a time, managed to convince his usually so rational friend that he was getting premonitions of the future while sleeping.

Perching at the end of Brian's bed, Roger turns back to the first entry and begins to read. 

Each entry has a date above it, the first few also have the same second date next to the first, which roger guesses is the date he recorded those dreams. But this is far more than just a recollection of dreams. There are extensive annotations on each page, and Roger is grateful for the times he's spent in the past trying to decipher Brian's ridiculously small handwriting or he would have no idea what he's actually trying to read. 

One thing that really strikes Roger about the descriptions of the dreams themselves is just how detailed certain elements are. The drummer has had his own share of memorable dreams and more than enough stress induced nightmares over the years, but he's pretty sure that even in the immediate aftermath he couldn't have recalled specific moments with such clarity. He finds himself drawn into the narrative they weave, his own anxiety heightening as he starts to realise why Brian had been so convinced of the possible reality of the things he'd been seeing.

And that's before he comes across one entry that he recalls very well. The break up conversation, written out word for word, just as Roger remembers it happening. The date given at the opening of this entry is from a few days before the incident, and Roger sees no other date to indicate that it had been recorded later. 

Roger's head is starting to feel light from more than just the alcohol but he forces himself to continue reading. He has to know what Brian could have possibly seen that could have lead him to dismissing all of this, if that is he actually has...

The entries continue, same format, but now some of the notes are written in red. At the top of the page where these notes first appear is a small asterisk in the same colour, and next to it is written the word outlier.

There's a sound of foot steps and shuffling. Roger looks up to see Brian stood in the doorway, hair all over the place, but instead of looking angry as the drummer feels he would in this situation, Brian looks nervous and uncomfortable.

Roger realises he's probably expecting laughter, ridicule, or perhaps anger like he'd seen from Deacy when he'd tried to tell them about this before. 

"It's real, isn't it?" is what Roger ends up saying, motioning for Brian to come and sit next to him since the other man currently looks like he's a few seconds away from collapsing. 

For a moment Brian just sits in silence, staring ahead. Then, slowly he nods, and suddenly the words are flowing out of him, rushing at such speed that Roger really has to pay attention to catch everything he's saying.

"Yeah, I mean i'm sure it is, I mean part of it happened already, and I keep seeing people I don't know, and that's not meant to happen, you're only supposed to dream about people you've seen and it just feels to real not to be you know. And I thought we were going to split up and I had to stop that from happening, but then Deacy left and I thought was my fault, and if I just kept my mouth shut and didn't put up a fuss you'd all stop being annoyed, and maybe we wouldn't go on a break, and if we didn't go on a break then we wouldn't split up" 

Here he pauses for breath before carrying on, slightly slower now, 

"Then John came back and I did what i was going to, but the dreams kept happening, and I think I might have been wrong about what's going to happen anyway, but I don't know."

"Is that what these bits are about?" Roger asks, pointing at the red writing once he knows Brian is done.

Brian nods, but doesn't say anything and Roger clearly sees just how exhausted the other man is. He can barely hold himself in a seated position, never mind answer a barrage of questions about what he may or may not have worked out about the discrepancies in his most recent dreams.

Roger himself is still struggling to get his head around everything he's learned this evening, and knows he's going need some a bit of time to process, along with a proper sleep, if he's going to be any help to Brian in piecing things together.

The pang of worry that Roger feels as he gets into the taxi to head back to his own place later on doesn't make sense, and so he pushes it away, focusing instead on trying to find a way to convince John and Freddie of what he now knows to be true. Brian can indeed see the bands future, and it doesn't look good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one.  
> I almost had Roger stay with Brian, but he really had to be gone of dramatic reasons.
> 
> Next Chapter Brian learns the truth so prepare for probably a lot of angst, sorry. 
> 
> Also thanks to everyone who has commented on the last couple of chapters, I really appreciate all of you for keeping me motivated on this.
> 
> The next update may take a bit longer as my initial plans have altered quite a bit, mostly due to things happening earlier than I had planned them to. I also have a few other ideas I would quite like to have a go at writing as well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian's newest dream reveals all, but is there anything he can do?

Roger knows. Roger believes him. 

Any shadow of doubt is gone, replaced by a hard certainty that leaves Brian with a mass of emotions he's far too exhausted to work through right now. Feelings of relief, of hope, of appreciation, but also of pain, of anger and of fear, a fear that even now there may be nothing they can do.

That fear is what keeps running through Brian's head, ramming into the sides of his brain as he struggles to find sleep. He can't get those red notes out of his head, the ones he had told Roger he'd singled out because they didn't fit with he already existing hypothesis. The ones that all lead to a different conclusion, one that he refuses to write down, or speak out loud, afraid that even those actions may be enough to bring it into reality, one that makes the his fears of the band breaking up seem like nothing.

If he is right Brian doesn't know if there will be a way to fix it, doesn't know that he isn't just being given a window into the inevitable, maybe as way to prepare himself and the others for something they can't doing anything to change, or just a way to torment him. 

Brian's mind is still fighting against those fears when sleep eventually finds him, and he wakes a few times before unconsciousness truly comes.

_The performance ends. Brian sees himself walk off stage, passing off his guitar before following the others through the maze of backstage corridors to their joint dressing room._

_The room is quiet, filled with a sense of weariness that feels heavier than the usual post show exhaustion._ _None of them speak as they change back into their usual clothes, but Brian notices the way they all keep glancing at each other, a sign of a forthcoming conversation that needs to be had._

_Freddie is the one who speaks, and as Brian focuses on him, he sees how drawn and almost unwell their singer looks. It's something he's noticed before in these recent dreams, and is one of many reasons for his reassessment of what they mean._

_"I'm not touring again."_

_Brian has heard those words so many times from Freddie, from all of them, towards the end of a long tour when the endless hotels and travel become to much, but never with such grim certainty. Never with such a lack of response from the others, as if this is something they've been waiting for._

_"I know how much the rest of you enjoy this, especially you Brian and Roger" There's a guilt and uncertainty in Freddie's voice that hurts to hear, "We can still make music, but I can't keep performing like this, I dont have the energy. I'm sorry"_

_Brian can hear something behind what is being said, knows the future version of himself must do too, surely? But the way he's looking at Freddie, seems to suggest he doesn't. Brian tries to grab onto himself, tell him to look closer, to see past what Freddie is saying to what he isn't._

_They're in a recording studio. None of them are playing. Freddie is seated on the edge of a small stage, and Brian's heart clenches at how frail he appears, how slight. The others are surrounding him looking almost as scared as Brian feels right now._

_Much like before there's a sense of resignation too, an awareness of something that is known, but hasn't been put into words, something they've been avoiding, the same thing Brian's been avoiding himself, the thing he hasn't allowed himself to record in hopes that he's mistaken._

_"I've got it. I've got AIDs. But I don't want to talk..."_

_Freddie's voice continues, followed by others in response, but Brian doesn't hear any of it. Instead his eyes are assaulted by a barrage of images, articles, footage about a disease he's never heard the name of, but realises he is familiar with through another name in this time._

_He remembers Roger telling him about it, ranting about how the medical research is focusing too much on seeing it as a 'gay disease' when it's clearly affecting other people too. They've both wanted to bring it up with Freddie so many times, tell him how much they worry about his health, about what his current lifestyle could lead to, but afraid to push him away further if he sees their concerns as signs that they don't accept HIM, driving him even closer to Prenter, who they have all worried is bad for the singer, and adding fuel to the insecurities and self loathing that Brian knows already plague him._

_That doesn't seem to matter now, because Freddie is going to get it, and since the one consistent fact he's seen about this disease is that there isn't a cure, he's going to die from it._

_Freddie is going to die. The words he's been refusing to say, to even think. Now they are the only words he can hear._

_Brian forces himself to focus as a new setting comes into focus. They're on a stage, gathered around a podium. Somehow Freddie looks even worse, the baggy suit he's wearing doing little to hide the obvious weight loss._

_Brian can stop watching, tears stinging his eyes as he watches the always strong singer fight through the clear pain and exhaustion. He looks like even the act of standing is a hardship, and with the way the others keep glancing at him with concern, they are clearly aware of how much Freddie is struggling._

_That gives him a sliver of relief as the scene quickly dissipates, moving to a studio._

_The room seems dark at first, compared to the sharp lights of the stage, and it takes a moment for Brian to see clearly. He and Freddie are alone in the booth, although there are others behind the glass that he can't make out._

_Freddie looks much like before, but even seated he seems to be struggling to stay upright. His voice is quiet as he speaks and Brian can't make out the words clearly although they sound like possible lyrics. He sees himself writing as Freddie speaks, maybe putting those words down onto paper._

_If Freddie is struggling to write..._

_Brian cuts his own thoughts off, but much as he'd like to, he stops himself from doing the same with the dream._

_He needs to see this through. if there is a way to fix this, he needs to know everything._

_"I'm ready" Freddie says, voice clearer now, and he watches as this version of himself helps his friend to stand, and leads him to the recording mic._

_Brian's heart clenches as Freddie starts to sing. His voice is weaker than he's ever heard it, but still beautiful, and so much more powerful than anything he could manage. The tears are back, but the feeling is not only one of pain. There's also a joy, a pleasure he can't resist at hearing Freddie sing, even in this moment._

_It's not long before the other man stops however, leaning heavily on Brian's shoulder as he's maneuvered back to his seat. Brian can see just how much that small effort has taken out of him and it's not a surprise when he admits he can't do any more right now._

_"I'll just have a break. I'll be back to finish it later"_

_"No you won't" Brian tries to shout, but he makes no sound, and the scene fades out._

_As the new scene appears Brian finds himself wanting to look away. He can't. His body is held in place, and in front of him is Freddie, lying in bed. There's almost nothing to him, the eyes sunken and half closed._ _Yet somehow he's still smiling, eyes focused on two figures by the window._

_He recognises the figures as himself and Anita, the woman who has never met, but is already falling for. Right now, the guilt that has previously accompanied her appearances is gone._

_Brian can barely focus on what any of them are saying, although he catches snippets about weather, the press who are apparently outside, invasive as always, a solo album. Freddie rings a bell beside his bed, and even that seems to take most of his physical energy to do._

_A man enters who Brian has noticed a couple of times in these visions, with Freddie. The singer looks almost surprised to see him for a second, but the way his eyes light up at the other mans presence, and the way he looks back with pure affection makes Brian realise he's someone important._

_"Hey Jim, do you mind getting us some drinks"_

_The man, Jim, seems to notice there are others in the room suddenly, having been solely focused on Freddie._

_"Sure love."_

_He gives Freddie a quick kiss on the forehead and after confirming what they all want leaves again._

_The singer watches him leave, and Brian realises he's never seen him look at someone like he's looking at Jim. The devotion, the trust, Brian remembers feeling like that with Chrissie, looking at her in much the same way. He knows it's not coming back for him, but it eases some of his worry over Freddie's current relationships, to know that he will find it for himself in the future._

_If only it didn't come with everything else._

_"He's wonderful isn't he" Freddie says, and he finds both versions of himself agreeing at the same time._

_He and Anita are leaving the house now, hand in hand. They're walking quickly and Brian sees why. Ahead he can see cameras, people lining the fences and moving inwards as they realise people are approaching._

_He hears a babble of voices, questions he knows they can't answer, won't answer. He's never been a fan of the press, but now he feels angry as he hears them trying to force out information about Freddie's condition, speculation about what's happening. Brian has never considered himself a violent person but right now..._

_This older version of him seems to be feeling the same as he pointedly ignores all of them, shoving past the hoards with more roughness than he usually would, rushing to get out of there._

_As the car drives away the blackness returns._

_Within the darkness a ringing sound. A phone. For a second Brian thinks he might be awake, but then light returns and he sees himself rushing to answer the call._

_He can't hear what's being said on the other line, but it doesn't matter. He knows, he can tell from the way the his future self grips tight to the_ _receiver, back stiff as he forces himself to keep hold of his emotions._

_Freddie is gone._

_"I'm so sorry Jim," He hears himself say "Is there anything you need me to do?"_

_Brian's head is ringing, he feels like he should be crying, but there's nothing, he feels empty, he feels nothing. He wants this to be over, but the scene lingers as the guitarist watches himself move into the lounge._

_There's a TV blaring and Brian watches as the channel switches to news. Freddie's face flashes up on screen, weak, frail, with a caption underneath that he can't read. Brian sees his older self slam his hand down on the remote, and collapse onto the couch, head in hands, body shaking._

_The tears begin to flow._

_Something has changed. Brian is no longer watching events play out, a distant observer to his own future. Instead he stands in his own body, surrounded by people, some he knows and others he's sure he's never seen before, at least yet._

_A sea of dark clothes and quiet misery stretches out around him, moving slowly forwards. Brian finds himself separated from the group, being gently guided towards a side room by Roger and John._

_They all pause at the door, reluctant to enter, and Brian knows exactly what he's about to see. He's not ready for this, he needs to wake up now. Brian tries to force his body to turn, to run from them final confirmation of what he's lost, is going to lose, but unlike in the past, his attempts to interact with his future don't pull him out of the moment and instead he finds himself opening the door and stepping inside, other others following be, Bhind, all of them huddled together._

_The door is shut behind the group, and they are alone. None of them speak, but Brian feels a hand grab his arm and give it a squeeze, and suddenly they're all holding onto each other, walking slowly towards the centre of the room, where an open casket is laid._

_Freddie still appears frail and slight, the stillness, the lack of style, of colour, in the whole place, feels so wrong. This isn't Freddie, this isn't their brother, he can't stand it. Reaching out to grab Freddie's hand Brian finds his body pushed forward as the pain tears from his body. Feeling a dampness at the back of his shirt, Brian knows he's not the only one crying now,_

_Brian sees himself from a distance again, sees the three of them arms wrapped around each other, together, and yet somehow it still feels like he's completely alone._

He wakes up in tears, sobs wracking his body as he struggles to even breath. the image of Freddie's body, still and lifeless seems etched to his eyeballs, and even the reminder that none of this has happened, that he's seeing this in order that he can stop it from ever happening, reduces the sharp pain in his chest.

For possibly the first time in his life, Brian wishes he'd been wrong, that he'd been heading to the wrong conclusion, misread the signs, but no. They're going to lose Freddie if Brian doesn't do something about it.

Brian doesn't know what to do, he can barely think, mind too focused on replaying the dream, and telling him once again that he is responsible, that they all are. He should have seen the signs, he should have done more to make sure Freddie knew they accepted him, loved him as he was.

Is, he reminds himself. 

There's still time. There has to be. He wouldn't be getting these dreams if there was no way to fix it. Surely he wouldn't, right?

All he needs to do is convince Freddie that his dreams are true, and somehow convince him that he matters that they care about him, that they can lose him, Brian can't lose him. That he isn't allowed to die, and that if he keeps going like he is, that's exactly whats going to happen.

The problem is, right now, Freddie (and John) will barely listen to him about creative decisions, never mind personal things, and certainly not ones that could easily sound like he has a problem with Freddie being gay, which the other man already has enough of his own issues around, and which he knows he hasn't always been the best about in the past, not at least in the way Roger has.

And even if does convince Freddie to take him seriously Brian doesn't even know when exactly it's going to happen, what exactly is going to cause it. It's not like a car accident, or an attack, he can't just tell Freddie not to do a certain thing or go to a particular place on this one date and he'll live. 

If only he had more, information, if only he could see things from a point of view that wasn't his own, but that's not how these things work. He knows that. This is something he has to fix now, and he has to fix it with what he has now.

Pulling himself together as best he can, Brian drags himself out of bed. Brian can still feel remnants of the alcohol running through him. There's a half full bottle on the table by his bed, and although Brian doesn't normally drink during the day, he decides that right now he needs the extra courage, needs something to numb the pain that won't quite abandon him from the dream.

Brian is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't realise he's been talking aloud from most of this time, and he also fails to notice that as he leaves his his house to go to the studio he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about how long it took me to get this chapter out, and that it might not be that good even then.
> 
> Just one little thing about this chapter  
> 1) AIDs was not called aids until may 1982 and even if this story was set right at the end of Hot Space recording that would still be prior to that. I'm not sure how much the public would have known about aids prior to that but thought if any of them had (outside of Freddie himself who at that time probably would have not been too concerned for himself i guessed) it would have been Roger who A) had most medical knowledge and B) was the most socially and politically aware according to the others.
> 
> I wasn't sure exactly how to do that bit but I hope it at least mostly makes sense.
> 
> Next chapter see what's going on with the others a bit, and Brian may get some answers as to what exactly is going on.
> 
> Thanks for the comments as always, and keep them coming. ( If you want to of course)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian has an accident, which leads to some conversations finally being started.

A sharp impact into his side. A rush of motion. A painful crack. Blackness. 

There's a dampness seeping through his clothes. Pain courses though his body. Brian can hear voices, loud but indistinct, through the haze clouding his mind. 

One thought manages to push it's way through the chaos. The notebook, he needs to get the notebook. That's what convinced Roger. That's where the evidence is. It's the only way to get Freddie to to believe him, the only way to save him.

Brian tries to move, to call out, but the pain is too much. Footsteps begin to close in around him. A hand on his arm. The blackness returns.

* * *

"Brian's had an accident. He was hit by a car. He's been taken to hospital."

Roger feels his chest tighten with a mixture of pain and anger. He had known something was wrong, had tried to talk to the others about it, but had been roundly dismissed, or ignored. That bastard Paul Prenter had even had the nerve to suggest that Brian's non appearance at today's recording session was some kind of guilt trip or attention seeking ploy to get the others to change what they were doing musically. He hopes the other man is feeling bad about those comments now, although he doubts it.

Freddie and Deacy on the other hand both look terrible, guilt clearly eating away at them as they all stand there, taking in what Miami has just said. 

"I'm sorry Roger, we should have listened to you." Freddie whispers, voice cracking in a way that chips away at the frustration the drummer has feeling towards his bandmates and their recent attitude where he and and especially Brian have been concerned. 

"I'm sure it's not that bad" Paul remarks, grabbing Freddie's arm in what he supposes is meant to be a comforting gesture, "You can go see him when we've done with this song, I'm sure he'll be fine til then."

Freddie shrugs him off before giving the other man a glare that Roger hasn't seen directed at anyone in years. 

"Did you not just hear what Miami said. Brian's in fucking hospital, how can you say it's not that bad. He's lying in a hospital bed, alone, in pain, probably thinking we don't care about him and you expect us to just carry on recording."

Freddie is crying in earnest now, shoulders trembling as he turns to look at their manager.

"We need to go see him right now."

Paul doesn't respond, but it's clear from the look on his face that this was not the reaction he'd been expecting.

 _Looks like your brainwashing didn't work as well as you'd hoped,_ Roger thinks darkly as he wraps his arms around Freddie.

"Let's go." John adds, his own voice hard. No one else tries to stop them.

The hospital is relatively small, and it doesn't take long to find Brian's room. Miami disappears to make some necessary phone calls, leaving Roger, John and Freddie alone with their currently unconscious guitarist. None of them speak to each other, but they huddle together at one side of Brian's bed, unable to look away, thoughts drawn back to the last time they were in this position, watching Brian struggle though everything from gangrene to hepatitis to the stomach ulcer, each time more scared that this time he might not pull through.

Brian had blamed himself back then for being ill, for not being able to play like he felt he should, and although he'd never said it out loud Roger knows his friend had worried that they might be forced to replace him. He remembers the three of them making a pact to show Brian how much they needed him, to never let him feel like he wasn't important.

Roger feels the anger simmer back up as he thinks about how much they've failed in that. How much John and Freddie, influenced in part by Prenter and his manipulation, have failed in that. He's watched on as Brian has had to fight for any presence on this album, has seen the way he's slowly sunk into himself over time, and yet it's taken this for them to acknowledge that Brian is still a part of the band, of what was supposed to be a family.

"I'm going to take a smoke" 

He needs a break right now, to get away before he starts yelling. That won't solve anything, and as much as he wants someone to blame, the drummer knows that none of this is really his bandmates fault, and they'll have time to discuss everything that is later, when Brian isn't, once again possibly on the brink of death.

The air outside is freezing, and as much as he would normally hate that, right now the chilliness is just what Roger needs to cool the rage burning inside of him to a simmering frustration.

_What were you doing Brian? What were you thinking? I should have stayed last night, why did I think you'd be okay on your own after everything?_

A tap on his shoulder halts the internal tirade in it's tracks, and Roger looks up to see Miami, looking oddly relieved.

"Brian's going to be okay, I was talking to a nurse just now and he's doing a lot better than they'd expected. Apparently the car had managed to slow down before the collision, so he wasn't hit as hard as he could have been."

The tightness in Roger's chest that he hadn't noticed until now starts to ease, even more so when he learns that Brian's worst injury is a bone fracture in his arm. Brian probably won't be happy that he won't physically be able to play guitar for a bit, but right now the drummer doesn't care.

Brian is going to be fine, and once he is, they are all finally going to have the conversation they've been avoiding for far too long. 

"Oh and by the way, can you give this to Brian when he wakes up?" 

Miami hands Roger a notebook that he recognises instantly.

"The guy who called the ambulance remembered Bri going on about a notebook, so when he saw this he thought it might have been what he was talking about."

"It will be. Thanks."

Of course, the dreams. The one thing he's somehow forgotten in the worry about Brian, and with the others finally paying them attention, something good may actually come out of this. 

It's time to start that conversation. 

* * *

Voices close by, low and quiet, familiar. 

_Roger._

That's who he needs right now. Why though? What does he need Roger for? Roger knows something, something he needs the others to know, something he needs the others to believe.

_The Dreams, the notebook, his evidence._

There's a flurry of movement, and Brian sees the drummer standing over him, eyes filled with relief, and something else he can't place. Why isn't he angry? Brian has ruined everything, he's lost the only chance they have of convincing the others that his dreams are real, and now, if they do end up needing him, he can't even play for a while.

_Laughter. No, why are you laughing? Maybe i'm still dreaming? Wait is that John, no it can't be, he hates me, he'll be so mad. Or maybe he'll be relieved, he doesn't have to deal with me..._

"No, I'm not Brian"

Has he been speaking out loud. He must have been. 

"Why? All I've been doing is getting in the way, trying push my ideas on you. I know what that song was about, I know how I've made you feel." Brian doesn't know why these are the words coming out of his mouth right now, this isn't what's important, but now he's speaking it does feel like something he needs to say. He needs John to know that he's sorry, that he's aware of how difficult he can be.

He understands why they didn't believe him about the dreams, why would they when he acted like he did, made everything else about him. But if he's here now, and Brian thinks he hears Freddie too, then maybe it's not too late, maybe he can fix things between them...

"That wasn't about you, none of this was about you really Brian. I'm sorry."

No John isn't the one who should be apologising, it should be him.

"No Brian, please just listen to me. I need to say this, to you too Roger."

Brian can see John in front of him, notices the tension, the pain, written across his face. He does as the bassist asks.

"The thing is," Deacy starts, taking a breath, "sometimes when i watch the rest of you, knowing what you want to do, writing songs so well, being able to sing them, I worry that I don't bring anything to the band. I listen to the albums and I can hear all your voices in there, but I don't hear mine."

He takes a pause, and Brian suddenly becomes aware of how much this is like what he's been thinking, yet he'd never even thought that Deacy might be having those same fears himself, he should have done..

"That's why I was so insistent about doing this album, about taking charge. I wanted to prove that I could bring something of my own, that I didn't need to rely on the rest of you. But in doing that I stopped listening to you, to both of you, but especially to you Brian. I was so focused on making this my album that I forgot to make it a Queen album, and you are a key part of that, and shouldn't have tried to take you out of it."

Brian has to respond to that.

"And I should have seen that, I should have trusted you, known that you wouldn't just cut us out for no reason. I'm sorry that you felt you had to prove something to us, and I'm sorry we got to a point where you didn't feel I'd listen to you." 

"You didn't, not really, I mean yes you can be stubborn, and extremely opinionated at times, we all can, that's why we create what we do. But all that stuff I said about you making everything about you, that wasn't true. I was angry at you because it was easy. I let myself think you were trying to stop me from having my own voice, when it was me that was doing that, because I didn't think I could, I didn't think I had a voice to put out there. That's what backchat was really about, me standing up myself, telling myself i do have a part in this band, that I do bring something the table."

"You do" They all say." We've always thought you did." adds Freddie, speaking for the first time since Brian has woken up. 

"I know that now, thanks to you Freddie, and to you Roger." The three men share a brief hug before John turns back to Brian, this time holding the notebook that the guitarist had feared lost for ever. 

"I should have listened to you about the dreams as well. Again I was so wrapped up in the idea that you were trying to sabotage me, that you were just trying to guilt us into doing what you wanted that I ignored the part of my brain that knew you wouldn't do that, that knew you were telling the truth."

"It's not going to be like that now though. We're going to pull together, we're going to make this the best album possible." Freddie chimes in with confidence.

"Nothing is going to break us up." 

"We'll be together till the day we die."

Last night dream suddenly comes flooding back into Brian's head as he realises he'd never gotten around to writing it down. They don't know yet, they don't know that he was wrong, that he'd misjudged the dreams.

He sees them all, confident, resolute, looking at him for agreement.

"I had another dream. I was wrong. We aren't going to break up because of some stupid argument about the album. We break up because Freddie dies."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried a bit of POV change within the chapter this time. I hope it was okay.
> 
> I had a bit with Roger showing the diary to John and Freddie, but I didn't really want to just keeps repeating the whole people explaining the dreams to each other thing too much so I got rid of it. I think it still makes sense without?
> 
> Next chapter will be Freddie POV as obviously it's his death we're talking about and he has some of his own stuff that he's dealing with, that I sort of want to get into a bit.
> 
> He may even see some stuff of his own.
> 
> Anyway thanks for the comments, and sorry I didn't get round to replying to them, I will try to this time, i promise.
> 
> I also have a couple other fics I'm working on which should be up in not too long.


	7. Chapter 7

This is just to say that the next chapters for this are taking me longer to write than I'd expected. I've written and rewritten what was meant to be this chapter so many times it's ridiculous.

Anyway I promise I am going to finish this at some point it just may take a bit longer, and I may write some other bits in between, but just so you know I'm not giving up on this, but sorry if the update isn't super quick.

I will delete this as a chapter when the actual update comes.


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